


The Bridge With No Opposite Side

by Gracious_Anne



Category: Snowpiercer (2013)
Genre: First Time, Kissing, M/M, Pegging, Plot What Plot, background Gilliam/Grey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gracious_Anne/pseuds/Gracious_Anne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edgar wakes to Curtis having a nightmare. Edgar comforts him. With his mouth. Pre-Snowpiercer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dawn

Edgar wakes to the rumbling of the train beneath him. It's still dark. The lights aren't on. It's not seven o'clock yet. Snores and murmurs echo in the trail car. Edgar rolls over to try to doze a bit before wandering over to Max's bunk to play a morning game of chess made out of bits of wood and scraps of metal tied with twine. 

Then he hears it. A soft, muffled noise slowly getting louder. As if someone is crying. Edgar flops over on his stomach to see if it is Michael, the new orphan in the bunk at his head (there are always new orphans). Edgar watches for the steady rise and fall of Michael's chest. The blanket made out of old t-shirts moves at a steady rhythm. Good. Michael's father fell in the last revolution a year ago. His mother was herded into the Prison. Michael hadn't been sleeping well since they had played footage of the failed uprising on the day of the anniversary. 

The noise gets louder. A muffled choked up whimper escapes above him.

Curtis. 

Edgar would just try to ignore it if it were anyone else and let them be but

“Curtis?”

The crying stops. Edgar waits a long moment until he is quite sure now that Curtis is probably holding his breath. 

“Curtis, you okay?” Edgar whispers. 

The silence hangs between them so long Edgar wonders if he's mistaken but then the bunk above him shifts under Curtis's weight. 

“I'm fine, Edgar. 'm sorry for waking you. Try to get some sleep.” Curtis's voice is rough and hoarse. 

“Do you need anything? I can get-” 

“I said I'm fine, Edgar,” Curtis replies, the familiar bullish restraint once again in his voice any time he talked to Edgar. 

“Alright, I was only asking, Jesus.”

Edgar huffs, rolls over and pulls the thin covers closer to his chin. 

A few minutes later, when Edgar is nearly dozing off, a soft thump on the floor and a small shift in bed startles him.  
Curtis is sitting at the foot of his bunk, his shoulders heavy. His head bowed. 

“I don't have anyone else to talk to.” 

“What about?” Edgar asks, sitting up. 

Edgar watched Curtis in the grey-dark, his eyes set on some awful memory. Curtis never says anything about what had happened before Edgar was born. In the dark times when people had to do things.

Edgar reaches out and touches Curtis's shoulder.

“What about?”

 

Curtis draws in a deep breath. He looks shaken and distant still.  
  


“I have these dreams,” he starts. His mouth opens and closes. Edgar sits up and swings his feet over the edge of the bed, throwing off the covers in a flurry of limbs. He sits and waits for Curtis to tell him. Tell him anything. Tell him everything.

Curtis only puts his head in his hands, rubbing his close shaven scalp as if that would make the dreams haunting him fade away.

“Edgar, I-” Curtis lifts his head out of his hands and looks so ashamed Edgar is taken aback.

  
Edgar reaches out for his shoulder again. Daring to kneed the muscles in an attempt at comfort. Curtis is still looking at him, looking through him, his expression unreadable. He looks younger somehow in the half-light, more vulnerable. Edgar had heard all the stories of all the surviving Earth-walkers. He always forgets how young Curtis was when he boarded the Train. How many awful things he had seen. Edgar wished that Curtis would tell him something. Anything that would lift the weight from his shoulders.

He would follow Curtis anywhere. He had seen the fervor and light in his face when the older men had talked about a revolution a year and a month ago. Curtis had tried to help with their plans but had been held back from joining by Gilliam.

 

Gilliam. Gilliam, their leader. With Grey at his side, hardly any older than Edgar himself, his wiry second-in-command. People talked about them. How Gilliam nurtured Grey back to health after he made his Sacrifice and helped him melt and mash the protein blocks into something he could swallow. How Grey had killed the men that tried to rob Gilliam of his precious books. They also whispered about other things. How Gilliam and Grey slept side by side. How Grey looked at Gilliam over dinner. How Gilliam stroked that boy's curly hair as he slept. Not everyone had someone in the Tail section, but Grey and Gilliam did. Edgar can't help but think Curtis needs someone. Anyone. In this moment anyway.

 

Edgar forgets he is still absently rubbing Curtis's shoulder until Curtis puts his hand on his. Curtis's hand is warm, burning with the aftershock of his nightmares.

 

And Edgar leans in and kisses him. Edgar feels Curtis stiffening against his kiss but returns it anyway. Curtis isn't going to brush him off so easily this time. Edgar knows this is what Curtis needs. A moment of intimacy that isn't blood and angry and spite, but of comfort and kindness. The kiss is clumsy and Curtis's beard feels bristly and harsh but Edgar could swear Curtis tastes of something more than protein blocks-- sweet like something out of Gilliam's books-- like honey.

Edgar pulls away feeling stupid but hopes Curtis won't hate him for just trying to make him forget.

For moment, Edgar thinks Curtis is deciding whether to slap him or just leave and Edgar doesn't know which one would hurt more. Hasn't he always been nothing if not bloody helpful and rather kind to Curtis?

But then Curtis's face softens and he looks so _relieved_ that Edgar tries another kiss, more timid this time. At first Curtis doesn't really move, doesn't react. But then Edgar feels him relax and Curtis kisses him back. Edgar feels Curtis's hands wrap around his head at some point and then Curtis edges his tongue into his mouth and Edgar pulls him closer.

Yes, use me, Edgar thinks. Dig in. Forget. 

Edgar feels the weight of Curtis's body against him and involuntarily moans into Curtis's mouth. Edgar's heard all the stories about Grey and how he serves Gilliam. Edgar hadn't missed the hard line set in Curtis's jaw nor the look in his eye when the loudspeaker proclaimed the news that the last Revolution had failed. Though Curtis may be able to fool the others, Edgar knew the news of the revolution had crushed him. Gilliam had said once that Curtis was a steady light in a world of sparks. That maybe Curtis would one day lead. And Edgar felt it in his bones that Curtis was destined for more than the Tail section of the Train.

Maybe this was a way he would serve Curtis. Be his someone. Comfort him when his dreams were bad. Make him forget who he is for a little while.

Curtis kisses Edgar like he's drowning. It's wet and Curtis's beard scrapes Edgar's skin but it's wonderful. 

Sometime in-between learning the taste Curtis's tongue and the patterns of his mouth the lights switch on. 

The quiet murmurs of people stirring around them doesn't bother Edgar but Curtis suddenly pulls away, glancing at the lights above them. 

Curtis reaches out and touches Edgar's head. A small look of what Edgar can tell as only peace passes over his face, but then the morning siren starts as people stir for the morning meal and it quickly disappears.  

Edgar watches as Curtis gets up and leaves, striding to the back of the car where the gloom swallows him up. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is really appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few days Edgar feels like Curtis is avoiding him. More than usual anyway. Gilliam and Curtis talk quietly in Gilliam's room for hours while playing chess as Edgar tries to pretend he isn't shadowing Curtis. After all they are stuck in this train car there really isn't any space or room to breathe. But Edgar didn't know what to do. How did the others do it? Every night Edgar lies down in his bunk listening to Curtis breathe and jostle wondering--wondering if he'd ever get the chance to kiss him again--oh god, wondering if he should just get up and climb into Curtis's bunk already as he had seen others do. Curtis was always so stubborn and stiff about things. 

He'd seen Curtis go without food for days while he gave his blocks to the pregnant women a few years back. It wasn't until Gilliam instilled the half-ration rotation cycle to all men that Curtis stopped in his bullheaded endeavors. 

Edgar would finally fall asleep exhausted from waiting, wanting--his dreams filled with heat and the taste of Curtis's lips. 

The next morning Edgar is just minding his own business, eating breakfast when he sees Grey staring at him from across the makeshift table. Edgar rubs his face unconsciously thinking he'd got the gelatinous stuff on his face somehow. But Grey just continues to stare at him as only Grey can without looking like he's about to murder you, which is extraordinary Edgar thinks. Edgar raises his eyebrows in response. 

Then Grey pointedly looks the right at the washroom. Or at least that's what everyone nicely calls it. It's really just a black sheet sewn over a pole hiding the precious overlarge washtub and the large water spout. There's a timer and a tiny board that lists the number of people who have used the showers in the past three days. No one gets to wash everyday but at least they are clean every week. There's no room for anything but the sheet and the tub so everyone just quickly undresses under another sheet and leaves their clothes outside.

Curtis's beanie and over-jacket are folded and stacked nicely on the floor. Plain as day. Edgar is puzzled for a moment as what Grey is trying to get at, then --oh. Really Grey couldn't be insinuating that he...but then Grey gives him such a wide grin that Edgar turns a bright pink. Grey jerks his head in the direction of the washroom again. 

Edgar shakes his head emphatically. He can't just--but then Grey gives him a look like he would be happy to bleed Edgar slowly to death and Edgar swallows.  
Then Grey gets up from his seat and moves like the sneaky jaguar or whatever the older people call a thing that moves like he does, and Grey very casually but covertly hands him the Sponge.

The Sponge as most everyone knew has been missing for two weeks. One of the kids had nicked it. Despite Gilliam's harsh warning that such objects from Earth as the Sponge were precious and there would be a punishment if the Sponge wasn't returned then there would be consequences--the Sponge had just disappeared. 

Edgar sighs. He doesn't want to know if Grey took the Sponge or whether one of the kids is bleeding out in one of the dark corners of the Car. He really doesn't. So he doesn't ask where Grey got it.

Grey points to a tattoo. Happy.  
Make Curtis happy is what Edgar thinks Grey getting at. He knows that Curtis would appreciate it. The Sponge.

Grey gives him a little push. 

"Alright, Grey. Alright," Edgar hears himself saying.

Edgar walks towards the washroom while eyeing the timer. 5 minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the existence of showers in the front section is canon I figure the tail must have some sort of sanitation and a washtub would be nice. 
> 
> Also Grey is a little matchmaker. 
> 
> Phaelah's Distraction has been my soundtrack for this fic so far.
> 
> And the rating for this fic is for later chapters. Slow build here, sorry.
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Edgar stands warily at the curtain. Too aware of all the eyes probably on him. Wondering. Knowing.  
But the Sponge is in his hands. Edgar pulls back the curtain just enough to slip into the tiny space in-between the tub and curtain. 

Curtis is facing anyway from him, all broad shoulders and skin. Exposed. God, when was the last time Edgar had seen him shirtless? A few New Years Eves ago? When there was dancing? Actual dancing? 

Edgar clears his throat. Curtis twists round in the tub, startled. 

"Edgar what are you-" 

"Grey found the Sponge," Edgar says hurriedly. He holds up the Sponge. 

Curtis's expression softens. He reaches out for it. 

Edgar could swear their fingers touch when he gives it to him. 

Edgar hears Curtis say thanks. He makes a humming noise in response that might sound like you're  
welcome but he's not sure. 

Edgar thinks he might have caught a glimpse of Curtis's cock under the soapy murky water. Edgar thinks he might be about to sport a hard-on. 

Then Curtis grabs his arm and pulls him to the side of the tub. He kisses him. It's rough and sloppy and full of longing for more. Curtis's beard feels pricklier then before. 

I don't want nightmares tonight, Curtis says softly, pulling away. 

No? Edgar asks.

No, I really don't want to sleep tonight, says Curtis. 

Edgar barely represses a grin. 

"Tonight then?" 

"Tonight," Curtis whispers.


	4. Chapter 4

Edgar doesn't really remember the rest of the day. All he really remembers is never waiting so long for lights out. had it always been this long? had it always been 11 pm and not say 9.30? He hasn't seen Curtis since that morning. Maybe he was talking plans with Gilliam. Maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe -

\--then the bed sinks down under Curtis's weight. He's sitting on the edge of Edgar's bed. Finally.

For a moment, Edgar can't see what he is doing-- looking down. Then he hears a thump on the floor and realizes Curtis is methodically unlacing his shoes and dumping them under the bunk. Curtis sheds his coat as well throwing it up onto his bed above them. He's only wearing a white tank underneath that coat. 

"Scoot over."

Edgar swallows as Curtis lays down next to him on his side. For a moment they just stay like that, staring not quite at each other before Edgar reaches out to touch Curtis's face. Edgar thinks he can feel Curtis blush underneath his touch. Curtis cups his own hand over Edgar's and mouthes a kiss into his palm. It's so gentle and hesitant Edgar wants to reassure him so he pulls Curtis close and kisses him. 

And kisses him. It's all thumbs and fumbling but Edgar can feel Curtis's cock growing hard against his leg.

"I meant what I said about not sleeping tonight," says Curtis softly. 

"I know." 

Now Curtis pulls him in and covers his mouth with his own. Edgar licks in and in, no longer any thought for Curtis's prickly beard. The train jerks madly to the left underneath them…twice. Edgar misses Curtis's mouth twice. They both laugh if a bit nervously.

California," Curtis murmurs. 

"What?" 

"We're in California now. She only does that when we've hit the California border." 

"Well obviously I'm not doing enough to keep your attention." 

Curtis kisses him deeply for that, grabbing at Edgar and grinds on him.  
Edgar moans, grappling at the buttons and zippers on his clothes. It's hot it's too hot. Curtis helps him, pulling down his trousers and pants to his knees --his ankles. 

His hands roam upwards as Edgar sits up and pulls his shirt over his head. Curtis's hands flutter over Edgar's ribs as Edgar kisses his neck. They flutter over his back, strong callused hands so unsure his butt, his crack-- circling his hole but then Curtis gasps softly and gives Edgar a puzzled look. 

Edgar gives him a sheepish grin as he lies back down and pulls his legs to his chest so Curtis could get better look at him. A better look at him there. 

"You said you didn't want to sleep," says Edgar. "I wanted to surprise you. I wanted--"

"Stop talking", says Curtis. 

Edgar shuts up. 

In the half light Edgar thinks he can make out the wonder in Curtis's expression as Curtis carefully, slowly pulls off Edgar's pants all the way and throws them in the corner of the bed, never taking his eyes off the small homemade plug in Edgar's now stretched and fluttering hole. Curtis reaches out and thumbs it, pushing it in more. Edgar hisses.

"Please pull it out," Edgar whispers.

"I'm more than ready, Curtis."

"Stop talking." Curtis sounds rather desperate. 

"Well, make me."

Edgar wishes it didn't sound so broken and needy with his legs halfway in the air but Curtis's eyebrow raises in the half-dark and a half smirk plays in the corner of his mouth.

Curtis fingers the plug again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback (including critique and editing suggestions) is really appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

Edgar breathes in sharply. Feels the plug tug at his opening. Revels in the sensation. 

Curtis starts kissing his neck. 

Edgar feels him grip the plug with one hand and very slowly pull it out. 

Edgar's hole feels so empty, his muscles involuntarily flexing. 

But Edgar doesn't have to wait long for Curtis's fingers to find him again, first brushing over his hole and then one wiggling in.

"Does that hurt?" asks Curtis. 

Edgar can only moan more and shift to take Curtis's finger deeper. 

Curtis makes an approving noise then he starts to suck on one spot above Edgar's breast bone. 

"Are you trying to give me a mark?" 

Curtis smirks when he looks up. 

“You know I don't wear coat like the one you do.” 

“Maybe you should get one.” Curtis punctures every word with a kiss to his neck, his fingers going searching out 

“Where,” Edgar manages before Curtis's finger – no, no two fingers – goes in in in and makes him warm to his very core. 

“The Front,” Curtis murmurs at his throat in almost a growl.

“They have -oh-better beds in the Front.” 

“Oh enough,” Curtis says flipping Curtis over onto his back and begins working him open with three fingers now.

Edgar thinks he could blush with the sound of squelching around wet fingers if he wasn't already burning. His toes curl as the pressure builds and he digs his heels into the bed.   
Curtis above him looks so wrecked. His hair is messy, disheveled and his lips are plump and red from kissing. Edgar can only watch as he smiles, really smiles before taking the head of Edgar's cock between those lips and Edgar's hips go up up up. 

“Stop,” he whispers pitifully while everything in his body says don't stop don't stop.   
Curtis hums around him and his tongue swirls around once before he comes off and somehow manages t shimmy out of his pants enough to get his own cock free. Edgar makes a noise when Curtis leaves him empty but he sees Curtis's cock is not long but fat and and stands at attention now.   
Edgar shifts and licks his lips. 

“Now, now please,” Edgar says. 

Curtis doesn't wait another second. He takes Edgar hard, not easing in but snapping in like a blow, rough and wet to the hilt. Curtis moans, grinding in in in before pulling out and rushing in again.  
Curtis thrusts and thrusts, almost too fast, too much for Edgar, so heavy and big is his girth but Edgar likes it--likes feeling used, feeling wanted. 

Curtis pounds in, no longer looking at Edgar but up, his jaw working as he tries not cry out and Edgar clings to him, wrapped his legs around Curtis's back. Then Curtis falls forward and let's himself rest his head on Edgar's shoulder, snapping into him hard. Edgar bites his lip trying to keep silent as Curtis so wetly grinds in, all need and out of rhythm now. But Edgar can't keep himself from keening all high and breathless for anyone to hear except Curtis and Curtis bucks into him, spilling in him with  
gasp and Edgar comes right after as Curtis hits that spot within him that makes his heels dig and dig into the lumpy mattress. 

Curtis lies still on atop of Edgar for a moment trying to catch his breath while Edgar breathlessly laughs.  
Curtis rolls off him to the left, kissing him on the cheek as he does. 

“What's so funny?”

Edgar gives him a big grin. 

“Your pants aren't even all the way off, you idiot. You look ridiculous."

And Curtis chuckles as they both survey his softening cock just barely out of his pants  
and Curtis tries to kick off his pants before wiggling and kicking like a child to get them off. 

Then Edgar pulls the covers over them and they fall asleep like that still messy and disheveled and only wake up just before the lights are turned on for them to sneak off to the bath and share their first morning wood together. Edgar finds out rolling Curtis's balls with one soapy hand while stretching his mouth around his fat cock and stroking him with the other is just one way to make Curtis's eyes roll back in his head.

And when Curtis comes back to his bed at night and they lay there in the darkness and Curtis explains how they will make it to the Front he feels how Curtis feels lighter and less heavy and less dark.

And when they at last make it to the Front, the train cars full of sparks and burning light and blood -- Curtis finds him a fur coat made of bear fur and skin. And it is heavy just as Curtis is as he fucks Edgar in the heart of the train, christening their new world with life, life, life. And Edgar swears he hears the engine hum and churn around them in approval. Edgar smiles. 

He knows his place.


End file.
